


My Dirty Girl

by warqueenfuriosa



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warqueenfuriosa/pseuds/warqueenfuriosa
Summary: Between Poe and Reader, it’s always about the competition and it’s always about sex. Never anything more serious than that. But when Poe goes missing, presumed dead, Reader comes to realize Poe meant more to her than just a quick romp in the sheets.





	My Dirty Girl

Everything was about competition with Poe. Especially the sex. And I loved to give him a run for his money.

The mess hall was empty, apart from a handful of stragglers at such an early hour. I hadn’t even bothered to grab my shoes when Poe kissed me awake and coaxed me out of bed to have breakfast with him before he went off world for an assignment. He sat across from me, his flight suit tied at the waist, sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, already impeccable for the day that hadn’t even begun yet.

“I still don’t see why I can’t go, too,” I said, poking at my breakfast, sullen over being left behind.

“Because General Organa said so. Just me.” He paused then added with a smug grin, “I’m her favorite.”

“You can stop rubbing it in now.”

“Don’t want you to forget or anything.”

Slowly, I licked my spoon clean in thought.

“How much time do you have before you leave?” I said.

He shrugged. “Less than an hour. Haven’t started my pre-flight check though. Should probably get going on that.”

I pointed at him with my spoon. “I bet I could make you come first.”

Poe choked on his breakfast, eyes bright with amusement as he coughed.

“Kriffing stars, babe,” he gasped. “Warn a guy first before you say something like that.”

“Didn’t sound like a refusal to me.”

He smiled slightly, tongue caught in his cheek, fighting to remain composed.

“I have less than an hour on base,” he said. “And that’s how you want to spend it?”

“You were thinking the same thing.”

He tossed his napkin on his breakfast tray and propped his elbows on the table.

“Loser gets scrub down duty.”

My eyebrows shot up and I dropped my spoon on my own tray. “You’re honestly that full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I prefer to say that I’m confident in my abilities.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to get my x-wing nice and filthy before you have to wash every single inch of it when you lose.”

I trailed one bare foot along the inside of his thigh as I spoke. He flinched and caught my ankle with a laugh.

“You’re asking for it, dirty girl,” he said.

Without looking away from me, he released my foot, slid off his bench and onto mine. He leaned into me, one hand braced on the table, the other at my hip as I swayed back, stretched out on the bench. As he settled between my knees, I could feel the hard length of him already pressed to my thigh, straining against his flight suit. My fingers ducked to his fly, tracing the outline of his cock so lightly that he pushed his hips forward, desperate for more friction. He nosed at my ear as he slipped two fingers into the neckline of my tank top and pulled it down, skimming the top of my breasts with his lips.

“Careful, Dameron.” I palmed his cock with a merciless squeeze. “I’ve got the advantage.”

He swore, a single shuddering breath at my neck and smoothed my tank top back into place.

“Your quarters or mine?” he said.

I smiled and nipped at his bottom lip. “Neither.”

Poe propped himself up on one elbow to look at me.

“Storage room,” I said. “In the docking bay. South wall. It’s empty most of the time anyway.”

“We could get caught.”

“Makes it that much more exciting. Unless you’re chickening out.”

“Do you really think I’d let you win that easily?” He offered a hand to help me sit up and I hitched one leg over his lap, scraping my teeth along his jawline, silky smooth and still smelling of sharp aftershave.

“Last one to the storage room can’t use their hands,” I whispered in his ear.

And I took off running.

Poe made a small noise of surprise and frustration. “Babe! Come on!”

I made it to the corridor leading to the docking bay before Poe caught up to me. I flung out an arm to slow him down but he laughed and jostled past me. He waited for me at the storage room door, so smug, the bastard.

“Looks like you lost,” he said, crowding me against the door. “Even though you tried to cheat.”

I looked at him through my lashes and didn’t move as he angled his head down towards me until all I could see were his dark eyes. His breath ghosted along my cheekbone, lips trailing my jawline, and just as he reached the corner of my mouth, I opened the door and backed up into the storage room.

Poe stumbled forward, caught himself against the door frame with one hand. I skirted out of reach and pulled my shirt off, knowing he would be disappointed that he didn’t get to do the honors himself.

“You’ve got less than an hour,” I said. “And you’re dawdling.”

In two strides, barely shutting the door behind him, Poe was across the room. He caught my face in his hands with a bruising kiss, the sharpness of his teeth grazing my bottom lip then soothed by his tongue.

My fingers drifted down his chest, palms sliding over the thin material of his t-shirt until I could feel the heat of his skin and the racing beat of his pulse. My hands dipped into the waistband of his pants, fingers clawed into his ass so brutally he would think of me every time he sat down on his special assignment all by himself. I pulled him flush against me and I could feel his cock throbbing even through the layers of his pants and his flight suit.

Poe closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath, teeth gritted, head tipped back.

“Poor Dameron,” I said. “You must be _aching_ by now.”

“You lost,” he growled. “Hands off, babe.”

“Do you really want me to stop?”

I rolled my hips against him until his mouth dropped open and he tugged at my hair. He scrambled at the drawstring of my shorts, ducked one hand into my underwear. All at once, he licked into my mouth as he curled two fingers into me, up and up, until I gasped around his tongue. His fingers sank deeper and _pressed_ until I rose up on my toes, body coiled tight and trembling in only two minutes.

I grabbed his wrist, struggling to maintain control, struggling to make sure he didn’t win.

“Wait, wait,” I pleaded in a rush. “Inside me.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Poe,” I whined. Already, my thighs were shaking, fingernails leaving crescent moon tattoos on the inside of his wrist. But I wouldn’t beg. I’d lost the foot race to him, I would not lose this bet as well. “I thought you were confident in your abilities.”

Poe huffed a laugh, warm breath and intoxicating smile imprinted there against my collarbones. He cast a sideways glance at me, one eyebrow raised, and I managed a small smile, fingers sneaking under his shirt to slide over smooth skin, thumbs sweeping his ribs.

“I could think of better uses for that mouth,” he said.

“That’s a completely different bet altogether.”

He hummed a long, lingering kiss to my lips and pushed my arms away from him gently. He brushed the back of his knuckles along my chin and twirled one finger in the air.

“Turn around,” he said. “And no touching.”

“No hands doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Dameron.”

“As long as you’re looking at me, you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.”

I opened my mouth then snapped it shut. He had a point but I would never admit it. I grumbled as I faced the wall and waited.

For a minute, then another, there was nothing.

Then Poe came up behind me, hands coasting down my sides, over my hips. He flattened his tongue to my pulse and pinched the skin between his teeth before he finished with enough hard suction to leave a wicked purple mark that I had no hope of hiding.

“Bend over,” he breathed at my ear, peeling my shorts and underwear down.

I braced my hands against the wall as I leaned forward. His hand ran down the length of my spine, over the curve of my ass, and finally cupped my sex. I bit my lip to swallow a pleased sound but I couldn’t help the gasp that came when Poe spread me wide and slid his tongue into me.

“Poe,” I said, voice a wrecked, wobbly mess. “That’s not what I meant…when I said inside… _kriffing Force_ …”

My hand slipped from the wall, fumbling to grab at his hair as my knees started to give out. Poe caught my hand, interlacing my fingers with his. The tip of his tongue stroked my clit, slow and agonizing and so damn thorough that I didn’t care I would lose a second time to him.

Poe stopped.

His hands fell away, his mouth was gone, the heat of his presence grown cold. I bowed my head against the wall, breathing shallow and ragged as I made the most piteous sound of disappointment.

In the dim light of the storage room, there was a soft swish of clothing, followed by the metallic gritty bite of a zipper.

I felt Poe surrounding me again, his chest pressed to my back, and I reached over my shoulder, searching for his hair, his hands, his clothes, just something to hold onto. He placed my hands on the wall again with a kiss to the back of my neck as he guided the tip of his cock to my entrance.

Inch by inch, he sank into me, and when he was completely sheathed inside, he paused, his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades, fingers digging into my hips. I could feel the full length of him, hot and thick, just as close to the edge as I was.

Poe pulled out and pushed in again, a little harder this time, thrusting so deep into me, pressing his hips up at just the right angle that I had to put a hand over my mouth to stay quiet.

“No hands, babe,” Poe said as he nudged my arm down.

“Don’t…” I broke off, struggling to form words as Poe steadily slid into me again. “Don’t want you to feel like you’re winning or anything.”

I could practically feel the smile on Poe’s lips, curved against the shell of my ear.

“I’m not?” he said.

“I don’t think you’re even trying.”

Poe didn’t hesitate. He picked up his pace, hooking an arm around my waist. I arched back against him, my head on his shoulder, my earlobe caught between his teeth. His hand snaked up my shirt, teasing at my nipples, skimming the curve of each breast so lightly in contrast with the relentless heat and rhythm of his cock.

Then Poe was coming apart – losing – as he growled in my ear, biting at my shoulder. I heard my name on his lips like a prayer, his teeth and his mouth and his fingernails leaving his mark, reminders of his touch that I would carry for days.

For a moment, Poe stayed there, his arm around my waist, nuzzling at my hair.

“I win,” I said, breathless, victorious.

In response, Poe turned me around and I finally got a good look at the fucked-out flush across his cheeks, the thin silvery sweat along the column of his neck and I couldn’t help swaying closer to trace along a vein with the tip of my tongue.

Poe dropped to his knees, his hands cupping the back of my thighs and he held my gaze as he lowered his mouth again. He shifted one of my knees over his shoulder as he edged closer. He worked his jaw into me, his mouth hot and slick. My fingers sifted through his hair over and over, down the back of his head, along the line of his shoulders, finally touching him the way I needed to.

A minute later, I came with one hand locked in his hair, the other fisted in his shirt, his name loud and filthy in my mouth. As I slowly slid to the floor, my legs around his waist, Poe kissed light and sweet along my ribs, between my breasts, up my neck.

“You let me win,” I said, the realization only just now dawning on me.

Poe smiled, gliding his thumb over my bottom lip. “Maybe.”

“I don’t need your pity, Dameron,” I said lightly.

“This was never about pity, babe. I’ll be gone for two weeks. I had to make sure you wouldn’t forget about me.”

“Now you’re fishing for compliments. Get moving.” I pushed at him playfully, catching his hand at the last minute and kissing his knuckles. “You might be the General’s favorite but she won’t be pleased if you’re late. And where did you put my shorts?”

Poe tossed my shorts at me as he tugged his shirt into place, zipped up his pants and adjusted his flight suit. His hair, usually so neat and tidily kept in place, was a tousled mess after I had tugged and pulled, thoroughly enjoying my reward for beating him.

“When I get back,” he said at the door. “I’m calling a rematch.”

“Right after you clean my x-wing.”

Poe swore under his breath and headed to the docking bay.

I’d never said good-bye to Poe before, not a farewell kiss, not a wave, nothing. I usually went with him on assignments, or, if I didn’t, then work sent us in separate directions which wasn’t really a big deal. And this…whatever this was…friends with benefits, no-strings-attached-sex, blowing off steam, the rush of adrenaline, it didn’t mean anything more than that. A quick fuck and then it was back to work.

But this time, as Poe climbed into his x-wing and ran through his pre-flight check, I stayed off to the side of the docking bay, watching him. He put on his headset and one stray curl drifted down over his forehead

 _I did that to him,_ I thought.

I was the one who unraveled his perfect composure. I was the one who sent that pretty crimson color up his neck, blooming across his cheeks when he was inside me. I was the one he made plans with for when he returned, even if it was just sex.

Poe’s x-wing pulled out of the docking bay and I remained where I stood until his ship was nothing more than a speck on the white light of the horizon.

Then he was gone. And a foreign tightness in my gut squeezed. I had no right to think it, let alone say it. I was nothing serious to Poe and he was nothing serious to me. But the words were there anyway, a silent plea in the hollow cavern of the docking bay.

“Please come back to me.”

***

Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks.

Silence.

General Organa would tell me nothing but I saw the tightness around her mouth, the shadow of concern in her eye. Something wasn’t right and Poe was out there in the middle of it.

Three months after Poe left, General Organa finally called me into the control room. It was completely deserted. Not another living soul could be seen, apart from the General, a neon blue map of the galaxy spread out in front of her. But she wasn’t looking at it. She was staring past it.

“Poe’s ship went down in enemy territory,” she said, her voice rough and dry.

“You’re just telling me this now?”

“I had to keep it quiet. If word got into the wrong people’s hands, they would be out there looking for him too.”

A pause.

“You didn’t find him,” I whispered.

“We found his ship.” She hesitated and lowered her voice, glancing down at her hands. “In pieces. There was no sign of his survival.”

I swayed where I stood, closed my eyes and shook my head. “He’s alive.”

“I want to believe that as much as you do, but the evidence – “

“You’re not looking hard enough. He’s not dead.”

General Organa let out a long, heavy sigh. She reached under the control room table and pulled out Poe’s helmet, scuffed with dark marks, one side completely caved in. My heart surged up my throat but I swallowed it back down.

General Organa passed the helmet to me. “I know you cared for each other,” she said softly.

The apology in her tone almost made me want to push the helmet away but my arms wrapped around it instead, pulling it close.

_Cared for each other._

That’s all anyone could say about it. Poe and I had never exactly been friends. There was too much sex for that. Hadn’t really been lovers either. We aggravated each other on purpose too much for that, too. Partners, maybe, but even that definition didn’t quite fit. We hadn’t been any of that, just…something else, something in between.

And yet, in the face of his death – his death I refused to accept – I was the one left holding all that remained of his life. A broken helmet.

***

I abandoned my duties and went looking for Poe but I found little more than the search and rescue crews did. Pieces of his ship, a shattered hull, blown out cockpit, scraps of twisted metal scattered across five miles as his ship crumbled around him and he was left to fall, alone, hurtling through empty space.

Weeks later, I returned to base to find a memorial service off to one side of the landing pad. I kept walking as fast as possible to my quarters but General Organa caught up to me before I could clear the docking bay.

“Would you like to say something?” she said. “At the service.”

“No.”

“Look, I realize – “

“He’s alive,” I cut in, my voice trembling slightly, my resolve slowly, steadily fading away. “I have nothing to say for a man who isn’t dead.”

General Organa opened her mouth and almost seemed as if she would protest further. Then she nodded.

“Get some rest,” she said. “I’ll see that your ship is fueled and ready to go in the morning.”

I let out a breath of relief. “Thought you’d fight me on it.”

“I certainly should. You’ve been neglecting your work for months now to look for Poe. I admire your tenacity but…”

“I’m needed here,” I finished for her.

She stepped closer and squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

I’d refused to believe it, that Poe was gone, but with General Organa’s hand gripping mine and her quiet words of sincerity, just loud enough for my ears alone, I couldn’t hold out any longer.

When General Organa returned to the memorial service, I fled to my quarters. As soon as the door was shut, I slid to the floor, my back braced against the bed. I gathered Poe’s helmet into my arms and cried until I couldn’t breathe.

***

The next day, I knew I wouldn’t be searching for Poe as usual. But before I headed out on a scouting assignment with the rest of my squad, I picked up Poe’s helmet and made my way through the base to the memorial wall, covered with pictures of those who had fallen in combat.

Poe’s picture had been freshly tacked up after the service and I stood there, arms wrapped around his helmet, unable to look at his picture.

Finn hurtled past then skidded to a stop and backtracked. His fingers curled around my elbow in an urgent grip.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “He’s back. Right now. On the landing pad.”

I glanced at him, confused. “Who?”

“Poe.”

Then he broke into a run and I couldn’t decide if I was dreaming or if I dared to believe this could be real and I should follow him.

Voices caught my attention, muted, triumphant and bright. Slowly, I turned around. Standing in the middle of a swarm of pilots, soldiers, mechanics and officers, was Poe.

His curls were a wild mess, and he had the makings of a nearly full beard. Bruises peppered his face, some livid purple, others tamed to the dull yellow of healing. He looked like hell, the most beautiful hell I’d ever seen.

Poe’s gaze settled on me and he stopped. He said something to Finn and Finn retreated, waving the crowd back. Poe directed his attention towards me again and spread his hands.

“Hey, babe,” he said.

I should have felt so much relief that I could barely stand.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I was pissed. He had been gone for so long and there was no contact, no warning, nothing. And then all he could say was _hey, babe,_ as if he hadn’t been presumed dead for the past six months.

Poe’s arms dropped to his sides, his head tilted slightly in concern. He came towards me and as he closed the distance I could see even more details that time had changed. He was sunburned, along his forehead, over the back of his hands, and there were blisters lining his palms. Wherever he’d been, he’d fought tooth and nail to get out of there.

“What’s wrong?” Poe said, his voice pitched low. His hand strayed along my jawline, fingers grazing the side of my neck.

I flinched at the warmth, at the reality, of his touch. Before, I had craved those hands on me at every chance I could get.

I shoved him in the chest so hard, he stumbled backwards.

“Don’t you dare start,” I said through clenched teeth.

Poe blinked. “I don’t…understand.”

The rage had finally ignited. Six months of a fire building in my belly week after week, all the hot, burning words I’d stored up over Poe’s disappearance, over his stupidity at going it alone.

“You walk in here,” I said, “after all this time as if _nothing_ has happened?”

“I couldn’t contact the base. I had no radio and the little hole of a planet I was dropped into didn’t have much in the way of communications.” He softened and he reached out towards me again. “Believe me, babe, I was doing everything I could to get back to you.”

I was shaking now, fingernails digging into the top of Poe’s helmet. “We had a kriffing memorial service for you, Poe.”

I wanted it to come out harsh and mean. I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me after disappearing and letting me believe he would never return. But I was falling apart, piece by piece, and my voice was just wobbly, wet, and weak.

For a split second, Poe hesitated. Then he summoned the most infuriating smirk.

“Did you say anything nice about me?”

My fist nearly connected with his face but he had too many bruises already and I changed course, hitting him in the chest again. He swayed back on his heels, caught my wrist and didn’t let go, holding me there, his thumb along the inside of my wrist.

“It’s not funny,” I said. “Six _months,_ Poe. You said you’d be gone for two weeks and then you’re gone for six months. I didn’t even have a goddamn body to bury, just pieces of your ship. I thought you were – “

My voice cracked and Poe stepped closer, pulling me into him. Half-heartedly, I tried to push him away, still annoyed that he would make a joke about the whole thing, still annoyed that I felt anything when I was supposed to feel nothing, but his arms came around me anyway. His broken helmet slipped from my hands, clattering to the floor. My fingers clutched at his flight suit and I buried my face in his shoulder with a sob of a relief.

***

I pinned Poe’s arms above his head, my mouth an inch away from touching his lips, his breathing frantic and desperate. I tightened my knees on either side of his hips, not moving.

“I knew it,” I said with a smile. “You’re so close already.”

“Not there yet, sweetheart,” he replied with a bite to my bottom lip.

I rolled my hips in a long, slow motion, taking his cock as deep as I possibly could, and he pressed himself into the pillows, the column of his neck beautifully exposed for me to do whatever I wanted to him.

“Kriffing shit, babe,” he gasped. “You don’t play fair.”

I lowered my mouth to his neck with a grin, sucking a line of purple marks into his skin. His pulse pounded beneath my tongue, his cock pulsed inside me, and my fingers traced every inch of him I could reach. And I never wanted to be anywhere else but right here.

“When do you have to leave in the morning?” I whispered, not meeting his gaze.

Poe’s hand smoothed down my hair. “Don’t think about that. We’ve got hours until then.”

I huffed with frustration, nipping at his earlobe. “You were the one who didn’t even take a week off before you volunteered for another of the General’s top secret assignments.”

“Is that a note of jealousy I hear?”

I poked at his ribs with a glare. Poe just smiled, slow and lazy and so perfect that it made me ache. His hands curved around my waist and he thrust up into me until I was gasping against his mouth. Another thrust and another, harder and faster each time. My head tipped back, fingers scrabbling at Poe’s chest. Even when I came, Poe’s name a chant on my lips over and over, he kept going, my vision whiting out with pleasure.

With one last thrust, Poe’s hands wandered up my ribs, over my breasts, to cup my face in his warm palms and pull me down to him again. He nosed along my cheekbone and kissed me, soft and sweet at first, before he plied my mouth open with his tongue, all slick, wet heat. And I forgot about what the morning would bring, forgot about my envy, lost to the feel of his mouth and his hands and his skin against mine.

Poe pulled away far enough to look at me, brushing my hair from my damp forehead. “I promise,” he said. “I’ll come back to you, babe.”

“Because you need to blow off steam,” I panted, fighting to catch my breath.

Even after crying on his shoulder, missing him for months, I still refused to admit that this could possibly be anything serious.

“Because you’re my dirty girl,” he said as he sat up, one hand at the base of my spine pulling me into his lap.

Not really friends, or lovers, or partners, but everything in between. Just for him and me, something all our own, blissed out, sweaty, and ready for round two.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to drop by tumblr and say hi @warqueenfuriosa


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